


Even the Motherland Needs a Rest Sometimes

by applepieandgunpowder



Category: Les Misérables (2012)
Genre: M/M, Sleepy Enjolras, sleep!jolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:03:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applepieandgunpowder/pseuds/applepieandgunpowder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is tired, more so than usual, and Grantaire just wants him to finally rest.</p><p>(This was inspired by a piece of fanart I saw on tumblr, and I plan on writing more)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even the Motherland Needs a Rest Sometimes

Enjolras is tired.

Exceedingly so. He usually can make excuses like stress, or migraines, but this time, there's nothing he can do. Grantaire notices. He tries not to laugh when he hears their "fearless leader" begin to slur a little from exhaustion and sees him slump a little at the table. "You should rest, Apollo. You've been up for days now," Grantaire keeps from giving an exact number. Enjolras doesn't know that he counts.

"I'll be fine. The plan needs to be set first. I can sleep when the revolution is over," Enjolras waves him away shakily, the motions halfhearted. Grantaire can't help but roll his eyes.

"If you don't sleep, there will be no revolution. You're useless when you're overtired." Grantaire is almost pleading now, hoping he can get through that thick, gold cloaked skull. Enjolras just laughs.

"Useless? Since when am I ever useless!? You're the drunk here, my friend." Les Amis gasp a little at that. Enjolras is incorrigible at full strength, but can be downright nasty when exhausted. Grantaire shakes off the jab like it was an ugly jacket.

"Come now, Apollo, you don't mean that. I wager you quite like me when I'm drinking. Now, though, it's time for you to sleep, so say goodbye," Grantaire directs this at Enjolras before turning back to the group around them in the Musain, "Bossuet, you clean up here. Musichetta, can you help him put everything back? Wonderful. Combferre, you're organizing for next week and getting together all the memos. Thank you. Jehan and Feuilly, can you recycle all those bottles? Fantastic, get to it. Everyone else can head home for now." Grantaire now turns back to the mass of blond curls before him.

"See? We can survive without you for a few hours. I can handle things here. You sleep." The curls, which are now flattened against the beer stained table, simply roll back and forth as if to signal a 'no way in hell'. "No buts, Apollo. Come." Grantaire simply marches over to his leader, the love of his life, and lifts him as if he were nothing more than a doll. He heaves Enjolras over his shoulder, and the young revolutionary curls around Grantaire like a child would.

Turning his head into the crook of Grantaire's neck, he mutters, "But the patria... She needs me." Grantaire smiles and pats down Enjolras' hair lovingly, "Even the motherland needs her sleep sometimes, Apollo. As do gods." At this point, Enjolras has stopped protesting and has stilled against Grantaire's body, slowly drifting off to sleep. He nuzzles further into Grantaire's neck, a sign for Grantaire to start moving. Grantaire obeys, as he always does when it comes to his Apollo. Being honest, Grantaire wouldn't begrudge Enjolras anything, except this.

**Author's Note:**

> I am honestly overwhelmed by the response to this. Honestly, I didn't expect much. I'm going back and forth on whether or not I'm going to continue this, just because I've got a lot going on. However, if you really would like to read more, let me know because I don't want to let this piece just fall to the wayside.


End file.
